I once moved empires without a sword, crossed oceans in a wooden horde. A pinch of me can wake the tongue, old wars were fought when I was young.

I sit above what you use to see, Yet I’m not part of vision. I reveal your tension before you speak, And I mark your years without asking. You touch me when you think, Though I do no thinking myself. What am I?

I’m there at the table with stakes low or high. I’m your best friend with a hot cup of chai. I’ll protect your plants and help them grow strong. I’ll be right beside you as you pack your bong.

The more there is, the less you see. What am I?

Put me in your mouth, but don't eat me. I can start and end your day just right. Clean and fresh from my bristled head.